Disclaimer: I do not own Rowling's characters or work. This is just a super intense fanwork to try to suppress an unhealthy addiction to the series. It's a work of love, don't worry!
A/N: This work is about Harry Potter if he were born a girl who looked like Lily with James' eyes. I now know it's a fairly overdone fanfic, but I hope you give it a chance. I'm trying a sort of snowballing effect, so it will start with some very close similarities (some word-for-word sentences), but turn into something different quite quickly. I hope you like it!

Chapter One: The Girl Who Lived

Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much. They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense.

So if you had asked about their niece showing up on their front step two years earlier, the beefy walrus of a husband, Vernon, and the thin giraffe of a wife, Petunia, would have played dumb. They weren't open about the fact that Hattie was their niece, and they allowed the assumption to be made that she was their daughter.

When the responsibility was put onto Petunia to take care of her freak sister's daughter, she was originally nothing but frustrated. She had decided she would not treat the daughter as her own. She could serve as a cook and a maid. It would be a good skill for the girl to have anyway. When Petunia saw her brother-in-law's hazel eyes leering up at her from the cradle, she filled with hate for him, her sister, the Wizarding community, and this baby.

But as the child grew, her originally blonde hair turned red and thickened. As her face filled out she developed Lily's finer features. Petunia was hesitant to admit to her husband that it felt like her younger sister was back with her, without the magic. She recalled the letter she wrote to Dumbledore about letting her go to Hogwarts, and ultimately the one he wrote her about Hattie. Petunia had no magic, she knew that. Maybe Hattie wouldn't develop any magic either. It was Lily who had saved the child, it had not saved itself. Maybe that monster who killed her sister sucked out Hattie's magic.

When Hattie was three, Petunia decided to do something. She approached her husband about the situation. "Vernon," she said, running her hands across her apron.

He didn't look up from his newspaper. Hattie was running around with a toy vacuum, and Dudley watched TV with his mouth slightly agape. "Yes Tuney?" he replied.

"I've always wanted a little girl," she said.

His beady blue eyes raised above his paper. He looked at the children. Hattie continued running around with the vacuum, and Dudley's eyes didn't shift off the TV. "She's one of them," he said as if the conversation was over. He looked back at the newspaper.

"Vernon," she said, pursing her lips. "We don't know if she has any-"

"No."

She continued, "She's Lily. If you took the brown out of her eyes, there'd only be her green ones left."

"You hated your sister," he said, gruffly.

"A woman can feel regret."

"And you will feel it," he adds, "If you continue thinking this way."

"Vernon, I want to buy little girls clothes and Barbie dolls and doll houses. I want my sister back before she met that boy and joined those people. If I just have enough influence-"

"She'll go to those people, she'll make us look bad, and then it'll be your sister all over again."

Petunia put her hands on her hips. Her voice turned cold. "I'm not asking permission. I'm telling you why I'm doing what I'm going to do."

Vernon looked up from her paper again. Rage settled under his blue eyes, and his face purpled, but he didn't say anything. They had a fight before, and he had to manage his own meals and clean his own clothes. It was horrible. Managing Dudley was the worst part of it. So he asked, "Will she still do the woman's work?"

"Yes," Petunia said. "She's going to be a proper lady."

And so the girl who had lived through the killing curse, who wizards raised their glasses to every year on October the 31st, would stay ignorant of who she was and would learn about who she should be. A lady. A proper lady. A completely normal, proper lady.